


Reaping Day

by Winter_is_warmer



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: 50th Hunger Games, Pre-Hunger Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-26 12:08:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6238090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winter_is_warmer/pseuds/Winter_is_warmer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day Haymitch's life changed forever~ part of Haymitch week on tumblr</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reaping Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is day one of haymitch week and my very first piece of writing on here. please don't judge if it is terrible ( which it probably is )

“Get up boys, it's reaping day” Haymitch's mother yelled from the kitchen, her voice missing the usual singsong tone she woke them with every morning. Haymitch groaned as he rolled over to see his brother.   
“Morning Ellis” Haymitch Whispered   
“Morning Mitch” Ellis replied   
It was Ellis' first reaping, his twelfth birthday only a few weeks ago. It didn't worry him yet because he knew that if Ellis was picked he could volunteer to take his place. What worried Haymitch the most was what would happen in 2 years time, when he couldn't do anything if Ellis was picked. When he couldn't take tesserae to feed his family. When he would have to watch one of the only things he cared about die for the joy of the capital.

The morning dragged on, with nobody saying anything to each other, the only sound in the Abernathy household was the clicking of their mothers knitting needles. Haymitch combed and gelled his brothers hair back, in the same style his mother had done his hair on his first reaping. They both put on their best clothes or as they called it their 'death suits' reserved for reapings and funerals only.

This year was special, the 50th hunger games, a quarter quell. This year 48 children would be picked to fight to the death. Haymitch knew this increased the risk of someone he cared about being reaped and so he did everything in his power to prevent it. He took tesserae for both his family and his girl's family. He found odd jobs to do around the seam and used the money from that to buy food and wood for both of them. His name would be entered 57 times this year, an improvement from the 72 times last year.

At 2pm, he decided to give his brother the only useful piece of advice their father had ever given him, “stay alive”. This was the last thing his father had ever said to him, when he returned from his first reaping, his father was gone and he had never seen him since. 'good riddance' was his opinion.

The bell rang, they all began the short walk to the town square. Silence, all around, so many people but yet so little noise.  
They lined up, got their fingers pricked and joined up with the rest of their age groups. From where he was standing, Haymitch could see Ellis and Sylvie, his girl. He prayed and prayed that neither of them would get picked. Then it began, the video played, the mayor spoke and then the names were picked.   
“Ladies first” said the pink fluffy escort, with so much joy in her voice   
“ Maysillee Donner”   
A girl, around the same age as him shakily walks up to the podium and awaits the next victim.  
“Dante Tindol”   
The smallest 12 year old in the whole town emerged from the group of other girls. She was the oldest of 7 children and could finally take tesserae, he guessed that her name was in almost as much as his. He knew she was dead meat walking.

“ Now for the boys” the walking pig said as she walked over to the other fish bowl filled with names. 57 times, the odds weren’t exactly in his favour.  
“Brysen Anglen”   
Relieve flooded over Haymitch, it was near impossible for Ellis to be reaped now.  
He didn't recognise the boy at all, 'probably some posh knob from the merchant section' he thought to himself.  
This was it, the small amount of relieve that he had felt before was gone, the pink thing slowly stuck her hand back into the fish bowl, wriggled it around and then pulled out a slip of paper.  
She opened the paper in what seemed like slow motion, until she read out the name.  
“Haymitch Abernathy”


End file.
